The Man in the Mask
by MarchHare5
Summary: Continuation of Halloween a Go-Go. When Bella takes Rosalie’s advice to make James her boyfriend at a Halloween party, she gets more than she expected. Who is the man in the mask? AH
1. The Party

**A/N: For those of you who read the one-shot, you don't really need to read this again. I did change a few things, namely Bella's section is now told in first person, rather than third, and I added a little bit more to her thoughts after her mystery man leaves. Otherwise, it's the same.**

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Chapter 1: The Party**

"Do you really think I have a chance with him?" I asked again doubtfully, quite possibly for the twentieth time this afternoon. Staring at my reflection in Alice's vanity mirror, I scowled at my own presumption.

An exasperated huff sounded from the other side of the room. "Bella, don't make me throw something at you," Rosalie warned. Alice chuckled from behind my head where she was putting the finishing touches to my hair.

My gaze shifted in the glass to look at the gorgeous blonde standing with her arms folded over her full breasts. Rosalie looked as annoyed as she sounded.

"How many times do we have to say this? James has been panting after you since you first arrived, and now that he and that skank Victoria are a thing of the past, there's no question who he wants to hook up with." Rosalie stepped closer and peered at my face reflected back at her. "And let's face it—even if he wasn't interested in you already, once he sees you tonight, he won't be able to resist." Rosalie's hard stare melted into a seductive smile, then she winked at me. "Cuz girl, you look _hot_."

"She does, doesn't she?" Alice agreed, stepping back and admiring her handiwork.

It was Halloween, and the three of us were at Alice's house preparing for the party being held at Rosalie's boyfriend's. Emmett, captain of the football team, had apparently thrown a Halloween party three years running, and each year's event was wilder than the last. Everyone was expected to come in some sort of costume; if you didn't, the tricks were on you. By this time, it was pretty much guaranteed that no one would be showing up without a costume—much to Emmett's disappointment. He derived far too much mischievous pleasure from torturing the losers who didn't.

I stood and moved over to survey myself in Alice's full-length mirror, the other two girls on either side of me. I was stunned at what I saw, barely recognizing the plain girl I'd been when I'd arrived in Forks just over two months ago to live with my father Charlie after Mom's remarriage.

Much to my surprise, in the small town of Forks I've found two amazing friends in Alice Brandon and Rosalie Hale and the kind of social life that I'd never enjoyed in Phoenix. In the city, I had blended into the background—quiet, shy, average-looking, I'd gone through years of school, unnoticed by girls and boys alike. But my arrival in Forks seemed to have catapulted me into overnight celebrity; seemingly every girl wanted to be friends with the new girl from the big city, and seemingly every guy wanted to get to know me better. Well, almost every guy.

Alice and Rosalie had immediately taken me under their wing. They were the two prettiest and most popular girls at school, and I was still at a bit of a loss to understand why they had decided to befriend me. Certainly Rosalie's friendship was still a bit of a mystery; the blonde bombshell had a prickly exterior and no patience for weakness. Alice, on the other hand, a petite dark-haired bundle of energy, exhibited a kindness and generosity not commonly seen in adolescents from wealthy families, at least not among the ones I had encountered in Phoenix.

Immediately upon learning that I hadn't left a boyfriend behind, Alice decided it was their mission to find me one in Forks—one sanctioned by her and Rosalie, of course. It wasn't a matter of class, money, or "cool" factor where the two girls were concerned, as much as it was hotness, how well he'd treat me, and how well he'd get along with Alice's and Rosalie's boyfriends, Jasper Whitlock and Emmett McCarty. (Rosalie had her own criteria as well that had everything to do with sex, but she usually kept that to herself.)

The first three boys to approach me—on my first day, no less—were quickly ruled out. Eric Yorkie, though friendly enough, simply wasn't hot; Tyler Crowley, who had wholesome good looks and got along tolerably well with Emmett as a fellow football player, had a bad reputation for "loving them and leaving them"; and Mike Newton, the most persistent of the three (as several weeks later he was still pursuing me, despite my shooting him down several times), was also just not good enough. He was a boyishly cute blond and was seemingly eager to please, as well as relatively liked by the female population of Forks High (especially one Jessica Stanley, I soon learned). Nevertheless, Emmett had absolutely no tolerance for him. Even laid-back Jasper didn't much care for him, mumbling something about "a puppy needing to be housetrained" when asked his opinion. Plus, according to Rosalie, he had a "teeny weenie." I didn't ask how she knew _that_.

After the first couple of weeks, I had had a chance to survey the males of the species at Forks High and come to my own conclusions. From looks alone, I knew who my first choice would have been for a boyfriend. In fact, I couldn't help but notice him my first day, since I shared my three advanced placement classes with him.

I hesitated to mention him to my girlfriends at first. To begin with, the whole idea about finding me a suitable boyfriend was just a bit overwhelming. I didn't admit it to Alice and Rosalie, but I'd never actually had a boyfriend before and couldn't imagine why any of Forks' "most desirable" would even be interested in me anyway. I'd never even been kissed before. I preferred to be realistic about myself and my chances in the field of romance, and though I knew I wasn't _un_attractive, I just didn't see anything about myself that I considered worth noticing. Certainly in comparison to Alice and Rosalie, both of whom were beautiful enough to be models, I was only plain at best.

But with the obvious attention I'd been receiving from the opposite sex so soon after my arrival, I'd been forced to reassess. Certainly _some_ boys found me attractive, so perhaps I'm not as undesirable as I'd thought. However, the boy who first caught my attention, as well as the other one I was interested in now, were in a different league altogether as far as looks were concerned, which is why I'd been so reluctant to bring them up.

But at lunch during the second week of school, Alice nudged me with her elbow.

"So, any thoughts on who _you_ might like to get to know better?" and she wiggled her eyebrows at me with a grin.

I shook my head and dropped my eyes to the table in front of me. But when I heard Rosalie's disbelieving snort across from me, I knew my stupid blush had betrayed me again.

I looked up to see Rosalie gazing at me expectantly with one eyebrow cocked. A glance to my left showed me that Alice's eyes were twinkling. "Fess up, Bella," she teased. "Who's caught your eye?"

I sighed and felt my cheeks burning hotter. I debated whether or not to keep it to myself, but at the insistence of the girl bouncing in her seat next to me, I finally nodded my chin in the direction of a tall boy with disheveled copper-colored hair, sitting alone two tables away with his nose stuck in a book.

From her position next to me, Alice could see at once whom I'd indicated, and she pursed her lips in thought. Not exactly the reaction I had hoped for, but at the same time, considering my unbelievable presumption, I couldn't say I was particularly surprised. I was sure any minute now my friends were going to tell me he was already taken, even though I'd never actually seen him with a girl.

Rosalie, her back to the boy, had to turn to see. She looked in the opposite direction first, then towards where both Alice and I were now almost conspicuously _not_ looking. When she turned back to face me, both eyebrows were raised, not in surprise, but in disdain.

"Edward Cullen? Uh, no," she said dismissively.

_Ooookay._ I wasn't surprised at the answer, but I was a bit hurt by the tone in Rosalie's voice. Sure, Rosalie wasn't one to pull her punches, but weren't we supposed to be friends? Yes, Edward Cullen was the most beautiful boy in the school—heck, he was the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen—but did Rosalie have to shoot me down quite so fast? But then I heard Alice questioning Rosalie's reaction.

"Why, Rose? What's wrong with him? Jasper seems to think he's okay, even though he doesn't know him well…"

_What?_ I looked up first in surprise at Alice, then at the girl sitting across from her. Alice assumed Rosalie meant there was something wrong with _him_?

Speaking in low tones so as not to be overheard, Rosalie explained. "Edward Cullen is a stuck-up, know-it-all, antisocial jackass." Alice sniggered at Rose's description. "Plus, I've heard he's…unsatisfying," she added with a note of disgust.

My eyes widened at this, my blush returning, while Alice gasped, then giggled. "Where did you hear that?" Alice wanted to know. Rosalie, who was never actually seen gossiping with other girls, nevertheless always seemed to know everything about everybody.

"You know that party at Ben's last spring? Well, Lauren, that skank, dragged Edward into a closet and went down on him. Not only did he not cop a feel, at all, but apparently he didn't even finish. Pushed her off and ran away." She looked over at me apologetically. "No disputing he's hot, but hell, he might actually be gay."

"Well, to be honest, I don't blame him for running away from Lauren," Alice chuckled. "Probably afraid he'd catch something." We all laughed at this. I hadn't even been there a week before knowing all about Lauren Mallory's reputation as a slut.

Once the laughter subsided, Alice turned to me again. "Sorry, girl," she said sympathetically.

I just shrugged, looking down at my hands. "Never mind," I said. "I didn't really expect anything to come of it. Plus, he seems to kind of hate me anyway…"

"What do you mean?"

"Well…" I hesitated, taking a moment to glance discreetly in Edward's direction. I sighed. "I have three classes with him. I've never done anything to make him angry. Not that I know of, anyway. I haven't even spoken to him. But every time he looks at me, he just glares like he's angry. I mean, what did I do?" I shrugged in defeat.

"See?" Rosalie responded. "Antisocial jackass." She folded her arms and leaned back in her chair, case closed.

Alice frowned in confusion. "If you don't mind my asking, Bella, what do you see in him? Besides the fact that he's cute."

"Cute?" I muttered just loud enough for the others to hear. "He's freaking gorgeous." Alice grinned. "Well, he's smart, for one." Rosalie snorted. "And he's quiet like I am." Rosalie rolled her eyes. I scowled across the table. "Oh, I don't know," I said with some exasperation. "I just thought maybe we'd have something in common."

Alice put an arm around my shoulders. "Never mind," she said, giving me a little squeeze. "We'll find you the right guy. Don't you worry."

~*~

A couple of weeks later at the beginning of October, the three of us were gathered in Rosalie's living room, talking and half-watching TV after school. The same question came up as before, and Alice and Rosalie waited expectantly for my answer.

Once again, I felt that I was being horribly presumptuous, and I was expecting another dismissal. James Hunter was tall, handsome, and a member of the baseball team. Blond-haired and blue-eyed, he seemed to be very popular with the girls at Forks High. Again, completely out of my league.

"Oh, he's _definitely_ doable," Rosalie purred. "And I mean that in every sense of the word."

"Rosalie!" Scandalized, I threw a pillow at her, my blush spreading across my cheeks.

"What? It's the truth," Rosalie defended herself. "Okay, he may be with Victoria at the moment…" My shoulders fell in disappointment; of course he was already with someone. But Rose held up a hand to stop me. "At the moment," she repeated, "but I've heard they're on the outs."

"Good thing, too," Alice joined in. "She's another skank. He could do so much better."

Rose nodded, looking at me significantly. "Yes, plus he's a nice guy, and Emmett has hung out with him a few times, so I know they get along."

"And he's hot," Alice added.

"Mm-hmm. But best of all…" Rosalie trailed off, her expression growing thoughtful as she looked at me. "You know, I'm really glad you mentioned James yourself, because if you hadn't, I would have. I've seen the way he looks at you, Bella." She smirked.

"The way he looks at me?" I repeated with a puzzled frown. "What do you mean?" I thought about the way Edward Cullen still looked at me, always glaring.

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "What do you think? He looks at you like he wants to lick you all over."

My blush returned and I looked away.

"What?" Rosalie chided. "If I were a guy, I'd do you."

Alice shrieked with laughter and fell on her back from her seated position on the floor. I gasped in shock, my blush deepening almost painfully; grabbing our empty drink glasses, I fled to the safety of the kitchen. I had to get away from the two of them for a few moments to give myself a chance to think about what all of this actually meant, all the feelings I had stirring in the pit of my stomach. The idea that a cute guy might think those kinds of things about me had my thoughts going in a direction they had barely dared to go in before.

~*~

The next few weeks were spent with one goal in mind: getting James Hunter to be my boyfriend. As Rosalie said, his relationship with his current girlfriend Victoria was failing, and Rosalie worked on seeing if there were any way to speed that along.

In the meantime, Alice continued to work with me on my wardrobe. Alice, self-appointed member of the fashion police, found it hard to understand how someone from a city the size of Phoenix could have so little fashion sense, but she seemed to think I was desperately in need of help. Truthfully, I didn't see much difference between my clothing choices and those of most of the other girls in school, but Alice was a perfectionist, and she found jeans she said were cut better to suit my figure, shirts and sweaters that enhanced my bust line, and colors that flattered my pale complexion. Alice rarely attempted to strong-arm me into wearing things that made me uncomfortable—I wasn't overly fond of skirts, for instance—as Alice said she didn't want to change my overall sense of style. After all her help, though, I did feel more confident about my wardrobe.

She also helped me with my hair and make-up. Alice said I had beautiful skin and didn't really need much more than a little eye shadow to bring out the color of my eyes. With my hair, Alice taught me how to style it differently, depending on what best suited what I was wearing. My dark brown hair fell in natural waves past my shoulders, but on occasion Alice insisted that it would look better straightened, or perhaps pulled back in a ponytail or braid. I wasn't completely convinced it was worth the extra effort, but I agreed to humor my friend since it seemed so important to her. A surprise trip to the day spa, however, was not something I'd had in mind. I ended up going through with it, but damn, that had hurt. And it had been horribly embarrassing.

In the end, Rosalie didn't need to do anything to help along the breakup between James and his girlfriend. Victoria managed that perfectly well on her own. Details were fuzzy, but the rumors said that one weekend in mid-October, James walked in on Victoria riding a local high school drop-out reverse cowgirl. Some people were even saying Victoria had laughed at James and offered to suck him off while she was still riding the other guy's dick. It didn't matter how hot Victoria was; few guys blamed James for walking out on her without taking her up on her offer. I didn't want to believe it; how could someone really behave like that?

Halloween, and consequently Emmett's annual party, was in just two weeks, and Alice and Rosalie both agreed that would be the perfect time for me to make my move—that is, if James didn't ask me out himself before then. All the signs seemed to point that way: James was being far more attentive than he had been previously, smiling at me when we passed in the halls, or coming to our table during lunch, ostensibly to talk to Emmett and Jasper, but always stopping to say a few words to me before he left. I wouldn't say I was getting used to the attention, but I was certainly starting to enjoy it.

The party was just over a week away when Alice announced her costume idea to me and Rosalie.

"Go-go dresses?" Rosalie smirked. "I think I like. Show me what you've got in mind."

We were in Alice's room, and she pulled up a Web site on her computer. Rosalie and I peered over her shoulders to see.

"Perfect," Rosalie purred. "Emmett won't know what hit him."

"Uh, Rose," I hedged. "Won't you be cold?" I looked dubiously at the skimpy little two-piece outfit Alice had selected.

The girl smirked back. "Not if Emmett has anything to do with it."

Alice chuckled as she clicked a couple more times, showing us the cute little red sleeveless dress with a white belt that she had chosen for herself. Finally, she brought up a page showing a third dress, this one white with a pink floral design and long, flared sleeves. "And for you, Bella, I thought this would be just the thing."

I saw the price tag and visibly blanched. Before I could say anything, Alice was already defending it. "It's a great color for you, and don't worry about the cost. It's my treat. It's part of Operation Get Bella a Man." Rosalie chuckled at the title.

I lay a hand on Alice's shoulder. "That's very sweet of you, Alice, but I can't let you do that." Alice opened her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. "Besides, I think I already have a dress. And boots." I grinned and winked at her. Surprising Alice like this was a rare treat.

Alice's eyes grew wide in shock, while Rosalie took a step back to give me a hard look. "Who are you, and what have you done with Bella?" she quipped.

I laughed. "I said I _think_ I have a dress. I'll have to check with my mother, but I remember seeing a dress similar to what we're looking at in my grandmother's closet. And I know she had a pair of white go-go boots. I'm just not sure if Mom still has the dress or whether the boots will fit me."

Alice still looked stunned and sat staring at me for a few moments more before snapping out of it. "Well, what are you waiting for? Call your mother!"

The phone conversation with Mom was a bit embarrassing from all the questions she threw at me, but in the end she was all too happy to send me the dress to wear to the party. The boots, however, were the wrong size, and Alice pouted and pleaded until I gave in and allowed her to buy new ones, which made Alice all the more happy since all three pairs of boots would now match.

And now here we were in Alice's bedroom again, on Halloween, where the three of us were surveying ourselves in costume in the mirror.

"This isn't me," I protested quietly, noting how short the dress was and wishing I could either stretch the thing halfway down my thighs, if not back out of the party entirely. _What was I thinking when I'd agreed to this?_ Rosalie rolled her eyes while she made a quick adjustment to her top.

Alice slipped a reassuring arm around my shoulders. "You'll be fine. Plus, he said he'd meet you there, didn't he?"

"No," I corrected. "He said he'd _see_ me there. Subtle difference."

Rosalie groaned. "Look, Bella. Knock it off. You say this outfit isn't you—well, isn't that kind of the point? It's Halloween, for fuck's sake, and you're wearing a costume. And this is your chance to take a chance, do something you wouldn't normally do. If that means being brave enough to put yourself out there for a guy, then do it. This is what we've been working toward all these weeks. You want James? Go get him, tonight, and stop worrying about it, because believe me, Bella, he's not going to say no."

Alice looked across at Rosalie. "Here endeth the lesson," she joked, winking at me to take any potential sting out of Rosalie's words.

I took a deep breath and stood up straighter, taller. "Right. You're absolutely right, Rosalie. I'm going to do this." _At least until I chicken out again…_

"Atta girl," Rosalie smiled at me, then hip checked me. I bumped into Alice and we all laughed.

"Wait, though," I said as we filed out of Alice's room, an important detail I'd missed suddenly occuring to me. "Do we know what he's dressing up as?"

"Emmett mentioned he overheard James say he was coming as Zorro. You know, black mask, black shirt, black pants, black boots, black black black…"

"Okay, cool. Just so I know what to look for."

~*~

The zombie that opened the door for us greeted us with a wolf whistle. Rosalie smiled as she stepped inside, and pushed the zombie off her when he tried to plant a wet kiss on her lips.

"So help me, Emmett, if you get any of that nasty ass face paint on me…" she threatened with a smirk.

Alice bounded right past him and jumped into the arms of a tall, blond Confederate soldier. He looked amazingly authentic. It turned out Jasper was a bit of a freak when it came to the Civil War. Meanwhile, the zombie opened his arms wide to welcome me.

"Damn, Jelly Belly, you look good enough to eat!"

"Sorry, Em, I need my brains," I giggled as I dodged Emmett's embrace.

Jasper pried himself away from Alice's lips long enough to give me what looked like an admiring glance. "You look great, Bella," he said with his quiet smile. I reddened, thanking him for the compliment. _Now if only another hot blond guy thought the same thing…_

"Would you believe that dress belonged to Bella's grandmother?" Alice said. Jasper swallowed thickly, then coughed, while Emmett paled beneath his zombie make-up, muttering something about "hot grandmothers."

Rosalie smacked the back of Emmett's head. "Has Zorro arrived yet?"

"What? Um, no, not yet. I'm sure he'll be here soon. He hasn't missed one of these parties yet." Emmett motioned toward the living room where a sizeable crowd had already gathered. "Why don't you check out the keg. I'll take you ladies' bags upstairs and join you in a minute." Emmett's parents were away for the weekend and we three girls and Jasper were going to spend the night here to help Emmett clean up after the party.

I was amazed at the transformation that had taken place in Emmett's house. All the furniture had been draped in black fabric; lights had been dimmed or covered with colored gels, creating an eerie atmosphere throughout the rooms; cobwebs grabbed at passersby, while candles and gothic furnishings completed the look.

"Did Emmett do all this himself?" I asked Rosalie as we headed toward the kitchen.

Rosalie scoffed. "Seriously? Most of this was done by the Energizer Bunny," she answered, nodding ahead of us in the oversized living room to where Alice was already dancing with Jasper to the pounding music, a plastic cup in one hand.

"Where did she find the time? She's been with us almost all day…"

Rosalie shot me a look that said, _She's Alice, you figure it out_, while we helped ourselves to beer from the keg. Being the daughter of the Chief of Police, I felt a twinge of guilt, but I figured one beer wouldn't hurt, and it might just help calm my nerves.

I spent the next couple of hours dancing with my friends and dodging advances from Tyler dressed as a cop, Eric Yorkie dressed as Clark Kent ("I'm not sure that counts as a costume since he writes for the school paper," Emmett commented darkly), and Mike Newton as a cowboy. He kept calling me "little lady," like he thought he was John Wayne, and if it weren't so funny it would have been pathetic.

It was close to midnight when Jasper took pity on me, dragging Mike away, and I was finally enjoying a moment of peace off to one side where the music wasn't quite so loud. Alice was dancing in her own little world, while I could just overhear Rosalie in the kitchen dressing down a sophomore who'd had the nerve to smile at Emmett the wrong way. I was surveying the rest of the crowd, wondering if James was ever going to turn up, when I felt someone step in close behind me. I started to turn around to see who it was, but firm hands at my right hip and left shoulder kept me from moving.

Warm breath tickled my ear as whoever it was leaned down to whisper. "You look as if you're waiting for something," he breathed, turning to skim the tip of his masked nose against the line of my jaw.

A warmth that had nothing to do with the small amount of alcohol I'd had spread throughout my body, pooling between my legs. Though my heart was pounding and I could feel the heat glowing on my cheeks, suddenly I felt emboldened with a confidence I hadn't known I had. Rosalie's words from before repeated in my thoughts. If this were James, and the person behind me was certainly tall enough, now was my chance. And I hadn't even had to go in search of him; he had come to _me_.

As his gloved fingers trailed slowly down my arm to my wrist and then back up underneath the wide sleeve, leaving a tingle in their wake, I turned halfway to look at the man standing behind me. My suspicions were confirmed; it could only be James looking down at me from behind his mask. He was covered in black from head to toe; only the almond-shaped cutouts for his eyes, a thin line across his cheeks between his mask and the cloth covering the lower half of his face, and a small triangle of his chest peeking out from the top of his shirt could be seen.

With my new-found resolve, I smiled up at him coyly. "Perhaps I was waiting for you?" I suggested, and I let my hand drift to where his rested at my waist.

At my words, the fingers tracing gentle patterns against the skin of my arm ceased their movement, and his chest rose and fell with his quickened breaths. He leaned in toward my ear to whisper again, sending another blast of heady warmth across my cheek.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he breathed against me.

I closed my eyes briefly under the onslaught of feelings I was experiencing. Did I dare suggest what was raging through my mind, what I'd been thinking about now for weeks? Dare I act on the desire he awakened in me? I was embarrassingly inexperienced, but the want, the _need_ I felt was making me brazen.

I turned to him again and looked in his eyes. "Why don't you show me? Upstairs, in private?" I tried to speak calmly, but I could hear my voice tremble, as much with nerves as with excitement.

His eyes widened in surprise and he swallowed thickly, his grip on my waist tightening. "Are you sure?" he whispered, inclining his head toward me, his eyes gazing at me intently.

It was my chance to change my mind, and for a brief second I considered it. Was I being foolish, doing this? If he wanted to take it so far, was I really ready for sex? My head was spinning, and I didn't have an answer to that question yet; all I knew was I wanted to find out.

I gazed unflinchingly back at his burning eyes and laced my fingers with his against my waist. Then turning deliberately, I led him by the hand past the revelers, oblivious to all else around me save the heat of his hand grasped in mine and the knowledge that he was following me toward the stairs, up to the second floor and down the hall, and behind the closed door of a bedroom.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I couldn't believe I was standing here in a bedroom, alone with Bella Swan.

I had been lurking in the darkest corners of the room for over an hour, watching her from a distance. I had thought the sight of her during school hours was distracting enough, but to see her dancing in that short-as-hell dress that barely covered her ass, revealing those shapely thighs…

I bit down hard on my bottom lip to bring my thoughts under some kind of control. Fuck, who was I kidding? It had been torture standing there watching those barbarians paw at her all night, especially Newton. He made my blood boil—couldn't he tell she wasn't the least bit interested in him? The cretin. And yet, he had the courage to talk to her, to stand close to her…

I took a deep breath, trying to both calm myself and strengthen my resolve. Wasn't this why I was here tonight instead of at home studying? Wasn't this the whole purpose of this exercise? This was the one night when I'd be able find the courage to approach her, talk to her, perhaps even dance with her—and God help me, hopefully allow me to put my obsession with this girl behind me so I could get back to what was important—my studies.

But I'd never get a chance if Newton didn't fuck off. I was just trying to work out some plan to get him out of the picture when I saw Whitlock almost forcibly drag him away, leaving Bella on her own for once and looking tremendously relieved. I saw her glance around the room again, much like she'd done several times since I'd arrived, and wondered again if she was expecting someone.

She was finally alone, the moment I'd been waiting for.

My mask gave me courage I wouldn't have felt otherwise. I couldn't believe that I'd actually leaned in and whispered into her ear, breathing in her scent. It was weakened somewhat by the scarf covering my nose and mouth, but it was still intoxicating, floral somehow, making me want to bury myself in her long, brown hair.

My senses were so filled with her presence that I barely registered that she'd responded to me—fuck, I couldn't even remember what I'd said to her. When I realized she'd spoken, I froze momentarily, trying to work out what to say or do next. Her effect on me was indescribable, and I think I must have voiced my thoughts out loud, because she shocked me to the core when she suggested we go upstairs. I couldn't believe what I was hearing…she wanted to—what exactly _did_ she want?

This was so far beyond what I'd been expecting—fuck, more than I'd hoped for. I couldn't honestly say I hadn't dreamed of something like this; she occupied all my thoughts, starred in every fantasy I had these days whenever I jacked off. My wanker fantasies had never had a face before, but now it was always, it was only, Bella.

But this just didn't match what little I knew of her. She didn't seem like the kind of girl who'd do something like this… Sure, she was friends with Alice Brandon and Rosalie Hale, neither of whom were innocent. At least they seemed faithful to their long-term boyfriends, and didn't have reputations like some of the other girls. But she was new here; maybe she hadn't had time yet to…

Fuck, how experienced was she? What was she expecting from me? Suddenly my nerves returned with a vengeance, warring with the heat building inside at the thought of being with Bella that way. I tried to stall for time by asking her if she were sure about this; fucking hell, as much as I wanted her, _I_ wasn't sure—wasn't sure I was up for the possible humiliation I'd land myself in—and for a moment as I leaned in to gaze in her eyes, she seemed to waver. But then she took my hand and turned, leading me slowly up the stairs.

And now here we were, alone together. As I locked the door behind us, Bella turned slowly to face me, and tugged gently on the hand she still held to pull me closer. The only light in the room came from the moon shining through the window. It was just a day or two away from full, for once not hidden behind clouds, and it illuminated her pale skin and gave her an otherworldly glow. I stepped in close, taking her other hand in mine, and drew both her hands to my cloth-covered lips. I wondered if she could hear my heart hammering in my chest over the pounding of the bass from the music playing downstairs.

I felt frozen in place as we gazed at each other. My instincts longed for me to wrap my arms around her, pull her in close, feel her body next to mine, but my mind ran riot with questions and self-doubt. If she hadn't freed her hands from mine and reached up to remove the scarf covering the lower half of my face, God knows how long we would have stood there unmoving.

Instantly I snapped back into focus and grasped both her wrists, stopping her. She inhaled sharply, looking at me in surprise.

It occurred to me then to wonder who she thought I was; whatever assumptions she had made, surely my name was not on the list of possible suspects. Or did my identity even matter to her? I quickly shut down that idea; I couldn't bear thinking about what that might mean.

I shook my head at her once, chiding. "You don't get to see my face," I told her, remembering to whisper.

She answered me with a frown. "But you can see mine."

I smiled back at her; I hoped she could see it in my eyes. "Your costume didn't come with a mask," I reminded her. Her eyes widened slightly and she shivered, though she gave me a timid smile; I lowered her arms back down to her sides, then lightly gripped her shoulders as I guided her backward toward the bed. As we were here, I thought, we might as well make use of it. She seemed not to mind, at any rate, and the longer I was near her, the more I wanted to give in to the urges screaming at me to touch her, kiss her, claim her.

When the backs of her legs hit the edge of the bed, she lowered herself to its surface and eased herself into the middle, her eyes never once leaving mine. I followed after, crawling onto the bed like a cat stalking its prey. I let my nose skim just above her frame as I made my way up her body, my eyes boring into hers until I hovered directly over her. My knees straddled her hips, my hands either side of her face.

Fuck, she was beautiful. Her chest rose and fell with her rapid breathing, her lips parted slightly, her eyes dark, her long hair spread like a curtain across the bed. I leaned down and buried my nose once more in her hair just below her ear, drinking in her scent. I began to nibble at her flesh, my lips still covered by my mask, down her jaw line to her chin, to her throat, the dip between her collarbones, while one of my hands curved to cup her cheek.

"Take off your gloves," she breathed, and I stopped where I was, my mouth poised at the neckline of her dress where it dipped toward her breasts. I looked up at her, and her eyes snapped open to find mine, silently pleading. I sat up, resting my weight on my heels, and kept my gaze locked with hers as I loosened each finger of my gloves slowly, before finally pulling them off and tossing them to one side. Then slowly, I reached forward with my left hand, my now bare fingers going to the flower-shaped cutout that adorned her waist. We both gasped as skin met skin for the first time, a current of electricity arcing between us. The feeling went straight to my cock, already hard, but now straining against the fabric of my trousers; I had to be closer to her, and I lowered myself to her once again, both hands now travelling up her rib cage, my lips returning to her neck.

Almost timidly she wrapped her arms around my back, pulling me in closer. Emboldened, my right hand fisted in her silky hair, while my left found the soft mound of her breast, cupping it gently before pressing more firmly. I began to rub my thumb back and forth, when I found her nipple and brushed across it. Bella gasped again, letting out a breathy moan, her back arching underneath me. It was too much; I had been subconsciously holding back, but at her movement I dropped my hips down onto hers, grinding my erection against her. She moaned again at the contact, my lips trailing once again down to her chest, where my other hand had joined the first and was kneading her other breast. My mouth blew heat over her hardened nipple, and I nipped at it with my teeth, protected beneath three layers of fabric.

The girl underneath me shuddered and moaned again. "Please," she begged, a whimper of need. My self-confidence spiked, knowing the effect I was having on her.

"Please what, Bella?" I rasped, thankful that my arousal added an unfamiliar note to my voice, as I temporarily forgot to whisper.

"Please… I need… I need…" she stammered, writhing underneath me. I nipped at her again, and pinched her other nipple.

"What do you need?" I demanded as I ground against her once more. Fuck, I wanted her.

Her hands grasped at my shoulders, pulling me back up to face her. "I need to feel your lips on me," she whispered.

I stilled, my eyes roaming her face as she lay beneath me. She was so fucking beautiful. How could I deny her what she wanted? A idea began to form in my mind; if only she'd agree…

"You know I can't allow you to see me, right?" I asked.

She shut her eyes in disappointment and frustration. "Please," she begged again. "I need you to kiss me…" My breath hitched. I wanted, needed that, too—to feel her lips against mine, to taste her sweet mouth, wrap my tongue around hers.

As much as I wanted this, as much as she apparently did as well, I hesitated a moment before answering her. "I can't let you see me. That's against the rules." _Where was I coming up with this shit?_ "I'd trust you to keep your eyes shut, but we both know that accidents happen." Her eyes opened to regard me, hope and desire staring back at me in equal measure. Her hands clutched again at my shoulders. I paused once more before continuing, watching for her reaction.

"I'll have to blindfold you," I told her, mentally crossing my fingers. _Please, God, let her say yes._ Her eyes widened, I don't know if it was in surprise or anxiety, but after a moment during which she teased her luscious bottom lip with her teeth, she nodded quickly, a breathy "OK," barely reaching my ears.

I exhaled with relief and excitement as I sat up again on my heels, then reached down and removed the scarf from her hair. She propped herself up on her elbows, allowing me to wrap the cloth around her; it was longer than I'd expected, and I was able to pass it over her eyes twice before tying it closed at the back and easing her back down to the bed.

If the lights had been on in the room, she might have been able to make out my form through the light-colored fabric, pink to match her dress, but in nothing but the moonlight, I knew my identity was safe. But I chose to warn her one last time.

"Don't remove your blindfold. If you do, I'll leave. Got it?"

She nodded again, accompanied by a whispered "Yes." She looked so innocent and vulnerable, lying there with her eyes covered, so trusting. So fucking hot. _Who did she think I was that she would allow this?_ I swallowed thickly, briefly cursing myself for taking advantage of her like this, but I couldn't stop myself. I reached up and finally removed the bottom half of my mask, tossing it aside to rest next to my discarded gloves.

The cool air on my face was a relief, but I didn't stop to savor it; instead I dove forward and buried my nose once more in her hair, her scent finally reaching me unobstructed. It was heaven and I drank it in, my nose tracing the shell of her ear before I reached out and gently pinched her lobe between my teeth, the tip of my tongue just grazing the tender flesh.

Bella gasped and one of her hands flew to my head, holding me to her while I licked and sucked along her jaw, while the other pulled my left hand back over her breast. I squeezed and kneaded her soft flesh, while she panted heavily in my ear. Finally, my lips found hers and stilled for a moment as we traded breath; my tongue flicked out to steal the briefest taste, and her lips parted in surprise. Instantly I pressed my advantage, my tongue invading her mouth, stroking against hers.

I was acting purely on instinct, but I must have been doing something right, as I was rewarded with Bella's moans of pleasure as she kissed me back. It was heaven; I'd never dreamed that kissing someone could feel, could taste, this good. My hand tangled in her hair, then made its way down to her shoulder, where I pulled and tugged at the fabric of her dress. When I had to break away from the kiss for air, my lips traveled down her throat, to her chest, to the skin newly bared by my hand. Bella understood what I was after, and she helped me work the neckline down to free her breast. Only one thin layer of pink lace was left, and I licked along the edge of it as I once again teased and pinched at her nipple with my fingers. And then I just couldn't wait any longer, roughly pulling the final lacy barrier out of my way and latching onto her tit with my hungry mouth. Bella cried out as my tongue grazed against her hardened peak. My knee moved between her thighs, and I ground my ever-hardening erection against her hip. Bella arched her back again underneath me, pushing her tit into my mouth. I continue to nip and suck on her flesh, and she curled her freed leg up over my ass, the heel of her boot digging in. I suddenly found my hand stroking up the outside of her thigh and up under her dress, stopping to tease and pull at the elastic of her panties.

"James," she groaned wantonly as my fingers bit into the flesh of her ass. And then my teeth bit into her tit, eliciting a hiss of pain mixed with pleasure.

For a second I froze. _James?_ That's who she thought I was? _That motherfucker._ That bastard didn't deserve this girl, not in a million years, and she thought I was _him_?

Fucking hell. Could I continue to do this, knowing that she truly thought I was someone else, especially considering she thought I was _him_? As much as I hated to think that she'd do something like this while not giving a shit who I was, I think I almost preferred that to outright deceiving her. And what if that dickhead had already fucked her? The anger and jealousy that coursed through my veins nearly blinded me, but I pushed it away roughly as I returned to licking and sucking at her skin—though I moved away now from her nipple as it had to be sore from where I'd bitten it. There was no guarantee he'd actually fucked her, and even if he had, there was no doubt in my mind I'd treat her better than he had. I knew it was wrong of me to continue deceiving her, it was completely fucking selfish, but fuck it, this was probably the one and only chance I'd ever have to be with this—fuck, this _goddess_, and I wasn't about to pass this shit up.

My mouth found hers again, while my hand moved to cup her sex. I could feel how damp she was through her panties, and I groaned into her mouth, my tongue curling around hers. I began to stroke her through the cotton, and she moved against my hand, whimpering. But I needed more, and I slid my fingers underneath the elastic and down to her pussy.

_Jesus fucking Christ._ She was bare. I couldn't believe she was fucking bare, and my cock throbbed painfully in my trousers at the thought. The skin of her mound was silky soft, but nothing prepared me for the feel of her pussy under my fingers as I slid them down between her lips. I'd never felt anything like it.

"_Christ,_ you are so wet," I breathed, her juices coating my fingers as I stroked them gently up and down from her clit to her entrance. I had no idea a woman would get this wet without direct stimulation, and it was such a turn-on knowing that I'd done this to her.

I had to see it with my own eyes, not just touch it, and slowly I began to drag myself down her body, still licking, kissing, sucking as I went. When I had scooted down far enough, I brought both hands to her hips and started to pull her panties down her thighs. Bella stiffened beneath me, her breathing, once loud and harsh with her excitement, now silenced. I stopped what I was doing, looking up to see that she'd lifted her head as if to look at me through her blindfold.

She dropped her head back down in frustration, her breathing picking up again, sounding anxious. "I… I've never… I'm still…" she stammered.

Instantly I understood, and my feelings for her softened again. She hadn't slept with that motherfucker. She hadn't slept with anybody. She was still the innocent girl I had thought she was, though what she was doing with me here now, regardless that she thought I was someone I wasn't, was still a bit of a mystery. But I knew then I couldn't fuck her; I wouldn't. This was no longer about me; I couldn't do that to her for her first time, thinking I was someone else. I resolved to give her as much pleasure as I could without going that far… but even more, I suddenly discovered I was resolved to find some way in the near future to be with her honestly, openly. Without secrets, without masks.

"Shhh…" I tried to calm her. "Just trust me." I stroked her thigh soothingly with one hand, my thumb rubbing small circles on her skin. I saw her pull her lip between her teeth nervously, and her hands clenched on my shoulders. "It's okay," I whispered. "Let me make you feel good." I hoped that I could; obviously I'd never done anything like this before, but fuck…I'd been reading up on this shit. If any seventeen-year-old guy was going to get this right the first time, it'd fucking be me.

She whimpered again but she nodded her assent, and as I started pulling her panties down again, she lifted up her ass to help. Freed from her underwear, she was now bare to my gaze, her knees spread to either side of me where I knelt between them. My God, she was beautiful, and I told her so as I leaned in closer to the heaven between her thighs.

The delicious scent of her arousal assaulted my senses, and it was intoxicating, even more than the natural perfume of her skin. I could see her juices glistening along her delicate folds, and I was overwhelmed with the desire to taste her there, to have her in my mouth.

I leaned over her, kissing and licking up her inner thigh, while I gently stroked her other thigh with my fingertips. When I reached the apex, I inhaled deeply, drinking in her heady aroma before I placed a tentative kiss right above her clit. Bella gasped, a little squeak of surprise escaping her lips, and I smiled before reaching forward with my tongue for my first taste.

I moaned with pleasure as her taste hit my tongue, and Bella mewled with pleasure. Her essence was tangy, a bit salty, and I needed more. I parted her lips with my tongue, dragging it back up towards her clit, where I circled a couple of times before making my way back down again. Bella writhed against my face, and I continued lapping at her, drunk on the taste of her and the sounds she was making. I rolled my tongue and flicked at her entrance, pressing the tip inside, and I felt her hands gripping the back of my head. More of her juices spilled from her and I licked at them greedily, then turned my attention back to her clit. Wrapping my lips around it, I flicked it several times with the tip of my tongue. Her cries grew louder as I brought my fingers to her entrance and slipped one finger inside. I pumped in and out several times before adding a second, and started sucking gently on her clit. Her hips were rocking back and forth now, riding my hand, and her breath was coming in ragged gasps. I reached up with my free hand and pinched her bare nipple at the same time that I both curled my fingers inside her and nipped at her clit with my teeth. A wordless cry escaped Bella's mouth and her walls clenched around my fingers, her body shuddering violently as she came. I slipped my fingers out of her gently and I lapped up her juices as they poured out of her, not missing a single drop.

I pulled myself back up to hover over her cloth-bound face and smile down at her, even though she couldn't see. She was breathing heavily, coming down from the high I'd brought her to, and I had never seen anything so beautiful. I leaned down and kissed her tenderly on the lips, not wanting to push things further as I didn't know how she'd react to the taste of herself in my mouth. But she pulled me down to her and opened herself to me, forcing my lips apart with her own. She seemed momentarily startled by the foreign taste, but she continued to kiss me passionately, and who was I to stop her?

When we parted for air, she pulled my ear down to her lips. "Thank you," she breathed against me, and I chuckled. Once again I traced her ear with the tip of my nose, and she trembled happily.

"You are an amazing, beautiful, sexy woman, Bella Swan, and it was my pleasure," I whispered, before placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. I wanted to explore every inch of her, kiss her, touch her, make her come again and again—but I knew it was time for me to go. If I stayed any longer, I ran the risk of her discovering who I was, or even simply who I wasn't, and I couldn't have that. Not yet, anyway.

I reached for my gloves and my mask, anxious to return the latter to its place at least before it was too late. She must have sensed what I intended, because she asked me so sweetly to stay. I was torn—how badly I wanted to, even if all I did the rest of the night was hold her in my arms. But I couldn't.

"OK, baby, just give me a minute," I lied, and I scooted quickly off the bed. I shoved my gloves in the top of my boots and hastily tied the scarf back over my face as I made my way as quietly as I could to the door. I silently turned the knob and slipped into the hallway without a sound. I felt like a complete shit leaving her like that, but I had to do it.

The party was still going strong downstairs, but I didn't stop, heading straight for the door and outside to my car. It wasn't until I got home and started peeling off my Dread Pirate Roberts costume that I realized that I had snagged Bella's panties along with my gloves. Part of me grimaced at the idea that she'd think I'd taken them on purpose as a souvenir, while part of me was glad I had one, just in case I never got that close to her ever again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At first I felt hurt when I heard the noise from downstairs grow louder with the opening of the door and realized James was leaving instead of staying with me like he'd said he would. But in retrospect, I should have realized he wouldn't stay, since he seemed so ridiculously set on keeping up the illusion of mystery. He could have stayed until I was asleep, I reasoned; but I wasn't going to hold it against him, certainly not after the way he'd taken care of me, and not pushed me too far. He had made sure I had come, and hadn't insisted that I reciprocate. I had been convinced I would have to give him a hand-job at least; how sweet of him instead to make my first sexual experience all about me. James really was something special, and I was both stunned and proud of myself for having taken the chance.

Seriously? This was not just my first sexual experience. I'd never even been kissed before. And what a kiss. And… _Oh my god._ I couldn't believe what had just happened, what I'd just allowed to happen. I felt my cheeks burning with the memory of his lips on my skin, my breast, my…

I was flooded with warmth once again as I thought about how he'd made me come. It was so erotic, but at the same time I was shocked that he would have wanted to do that to me. I wondered if Alice or Rosalie had ever… I bit my lip and blushed again, thinking about it; I could never ask them something like that. But to be so exposed to him, in such an intimate way… I was suddenly very grateful to James for being such a gentleman; if it had been anyone else, who knows how far things might have gone, whether I'd wanted them to or not.

However, a moment later I was annoyed and even more embarrassed when I realized that James had stolen my panties. It seemed in direct contrast to the way he'd otherwise treated me, but he was a teenage boy after all. I had briefly considered running after him, or looking for Alice or Rosalie, but the absence of my panties solidified my resolve not to return downstairs; besides which, after what had just happened, I felt far too warm and relaxed. Moving at that point was no longer an option, and I soon fell asleep, despite the noise that still drifted up through the floor.

~*~

We all slept in the next morning, so we were more than a bit disoriented when we remembered that the clocks had turned back the night before. The five of us moved sluggishly as we cleaned up the house in the wake of the previous night's festivities, but fortunately, other than a few suggestive looks and teasing remarks from Rosalie and Alice, both girls left me in peace until we were able to get away from the boys after breakfast.

Back at Alice's house, however, they pounced on me. Unable to keep from smiling widely and blushing furiously, I only told them the bare minimum. Yes, James had found me; yes, we'd found some privacy; yes, it was amazing—but exactly what I thought was amazing I wasn't about to elaborate on, regardless of how much my two friends begged and pleaded for details. But when Rosalie's probing questions started embarrassing even Alice, the topic was abruptly closed. After lunch I finally made my way back home, saying I needed to prove to my father that I was still alive.

Monday morning before classes started, a shadow fell over my shoulder as I exchanged books between my locker and my knapsack. I turned to find James standing a few feet away, looking at me hesitantly, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.

"Hey," he offered, sounding unsure of my welcome.

"Hi, James," I smiled quietly back at him, feeling the blush creep up my cheeks at the thought of when we'd last been together—and what we'd done.

"So… where were you Saturday night?" James asked me, watching for my reaction.

My face grew redder at the reminder and I dropped my gaze for a moment. I smiled bashfully as I looked back up at him, not meeting his eyes. "You know where I was," I mumbled so low he could probably barely hear me.

"Um, no?" he responded, his brows creasing in a puzzled frown. "I got to the party late, and I didn't see you anywhere."

My eyes snapped to his in surprise, which I immediately attempted to hide. At his cocked eyebrow, I knew I'd been unsuccessful. "What did you come dressed as?" I asked, trying to sound merely curious, but a knot was starting to form in my stomach.

"Zorro," James answered. "You know, black mask, black cape, sword…" He playfully moved one hand in an extended zigzag motion, as if he were whipping a rapier's blade back and forth.

My eyes widened, and once again I tried to hide my reaction to his words, but his puzzled expression as he watched me told me I'd failed again. I'm a horrible actress, and a terrible liar, but I had to give it a shot before he asked any questions.

"Oh, right!" I exclaimed, trying to sound convincing. "I think I saw you right as I was leaving to go lie down upstairs. I was really tired…" I paused, flustered, and just managed an apologetic look. "I'm sorry we missed each other." I turned back to my locker, throwing one last book in blindly, hoping that he'd leave it at that. I had to find Alice and Rosalie.

"Not as sorry as I am, Bella," James said, his voice dropping low as he leaned in behind me, one hand going to my hip. I stiffened, and then asked myself why I was suddenly so anxious about his close proximity. He wasn't the one who'd misled me. But still, I felt strangely uncomfortable.

I shut my locker noisily and turned to leave, disconcerted at how close he was standing to me. "I'm sorry, James, but I've got to go," I rushed. "I just remembered I need to give Alice a book before first period." I flashed him a weak smile and brushed past him, walking quickly away down the hall.

Moments later, I spotted my girlfriends standing together at Alice's locker, where she was just working the combination to open it. Rosalie noticed me approach, nodding and smiling at me, prompting Alice to turn around.

"Hey, Bella," Alice greeted me cheerily, and then she lowered her voice and looked at me suggestively. "Have you seen James yet this morning?" She grinned widely at me, and instead of blushing for a change, I actually blanched. Both Alice and Rosalie's teasing expressions changed to concern as they saw the growing panic on my face.

"Alice, Rosalie, I have a problem."


	2. Mystery Man

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to write the second chapter. I hope it doesn't take as long for the rest of them, but RL has a knack of getting in the way. At least I've started on chapter 3. ;)**

**Many thanks to my beta, Zors.**

**

* * *

Chapter 2: Mystery Man**

_Bella Swan. Fucking hell._

I lay in bed, thinking about her again. Thinking about last night. About the electricity that sparked when I'd touched her soft skin, the heat radiating from between her thighs. The sound of her breath catching, the way she moaned underneath me. The sight of that lush bottom lip trapped between her teeth, her wet folds glistening in the pale moonlight. The fragrance of her skin, the intoxicating aroma of her arousal. The sweetness of her mouth, the heavenly taste of her pussy.

I was fucking hard as granite as I continued to pump myself, replaying the events of last night in my head. I bit back a groan as I brought the crotch of her stolen panties back up to my nose, inhaling deeply. _I am fucking going to hell._ That scent was the final thing I needed; two more hard pulls and I exploded, lights flashing behind my eyes and hot cum spurting against my abs.

_Jesus H. Christ._ After giving myself a moment, I leaned over and grabbed a handful of tissues to clean myself up, then collapsed back against the bed once I was done. That was the third time I'd jacked off in the eight hours since I'd made Bella Swan come on my mouth.

I took a moment to savor the thought again. _I'd made Bella come. On my mouth._ My lips curled into a smirk. I was a such a smug bastard.

Last night I couldn't get home fast enough to relieve myself of the raging case of blue balls I'd had, and as I'd finally fallen asleep, exhausted, I thought that maybe, just _maybe_, things could go back to normal.

I was such a goddamn fool.

Things hadn't been normal for two fucking months. Not since the moment I'd first laid eyes on her in the hallway before classes even started for the new school year. I'd been on my way to my first class when I'd seen her, looking slightly lost as her eyes drifted back and forth between a paper clutched in her hand and the numbers posted above the classroom doors. Obviously a new student.

And absolutely stunning. A heart-shaped face framed by luxuriant mahogany waves. A full bottom lip, the perfect shade of pink against clear, pale skin. And the most beautiful brown eyes I'd ever seen.

Without realizing it, I'd come to a halt, watching her as she looked for her destination. I may even have stopped breathing for a moment. But I was rudely jolted back into awareness as someone knocked into me on the way through the classroom door I was blocking. I shook my head to clear it and determinedly turned my back on her, following the other students into the room and taking a seat at the back. I ignored the sounds of my fellow students greeting each other after the summer break, and only looked up from the textbook I was perusing when I heard Mr. Lacey shutting the door after the final straggler.

And I think my heart may have stopped again, because she was here. In my classroom. And I think I instantly resented her for it. My eyes followed her as she made her way down the aisle and settled at a desk at the back two rows over from me. I watched as she retrieved a notebook and pen from her bag and then scooted down in her seat. I continued to study her as I listened to Mr. Lacey taking roll, barely managing to acknowledge my own name when he called it. Finally, I heard a name I didn't recognize, Isabella Swan. The girl responded, looking up as she quietly stated she preferred the name Bella. Her eyes scanned the faces around her, eventually making their way to mine, when they widened in surprise and quickly looked away. I noticed a crease appear between her eyebrows before her hair fell like a curtain, obscuring her face from view.

It was almost like a spell had been lifted, and I could breathe again. I felt an ache in both my jaw and my brow ridge, and I gradually eased the tension from my facial muscles as I leaned back to listen to Mr. Lacey as he introduced the topics we'd be covering this year. But if I'd thought then that I was safe, that my world hadn't been suddenly turned fucking upside down by Bella Swan, I was sadly mistaken.

That was just one of three classes I found myself sharing with her this year, and each time I walked into another class to find her there, I got more and more agitated. Where had she come from, and why was she here? And what the fuck was wrong with me? I had never reacted this way to anyone before, but this girl—this girl was a distraction. More than. And an unwelcome one. During the classes I shared with her, I couldn't help but stare, often losing track of what was being discussed, and when she wasn't around, I was thinking about her. Constantly. By the third day of school, I had even changed my three-year habit of spending lunch studying in the library, just so I could sit at a table near enough to watch her with her friends without being obvious.

Things were no better at home; if anything, they were worse. In the privacy of my room, I was able to indulge in my fantasies of Bella Swan. Not just sexual fantasies to jerk off to in the shower or lying in bed, although, now that my wank-girl had a face—Bella's—those were fucking fantastic, better than they'd ever been before. But I was having fucking _daydreams_ about her. Of holding her hand, of kissing her lips, of holding her close as she smiled at me.

I was turning into a fucking girl.

Even worse, these goddamn girlie daydreams about Bella fucking Swan were keeping me from getting my work done the way I should be. Sure, I'd taken my SATs last June so I could apply for early acceptance at Dartmouth, so that wasn't an issue, but fuck it, I still needed to keep my grades up. I couldn't let myself spoil my perfect grade point average because I was obsessed with a fucking girl.

The only break I got was when I was at work, because at least then I was too busy to think about anything other than what I was doing. Plus, at the hospital it was even more important that I remain focused on the job at hand—not just because of the welfare of the patients there, and not just because a glowing recommendation from my supervisors would help with my college application. But if I fucked up, my father, the Chief of Surgery, would kill me. Well, no, _he_ wouldn't kill me, but my disappointing him fucking would.

I told myself I had to find a way to get her off my mind, get past this obsession with her so I could get back on track. Those first few weeks, I was hoping it would be a simple matter of watching her interact with the other students, listening to her talk, observing her body language and facial expressions. I was so sure—no, I was _hoping_—that she'd prove herself to be a vain flirt, a nasty bitch, a total slut. From being in three of her classes, I already knew that she was well educated and smart. And her voice, on top of fucking everything else, was like pure honey.

Sadly, my observations led me to the conclusion that she was not a flirt, not a slut, not a bitch. She didn't seem exactly shy, but she was definitely quiet, and she appeared surprised at all the attention she received from the male portion of the student body. Like that idiot Newton, who continued to follow her around like a lost puppy. He so fucking needed to get a clue. Anyway, no, she most definitely wasn't a flirt, which kind of precluded the whole idea of her being a slut, didn't it? And she wasn't a bitch either; hell, she'd have managed to get rid of Newton by now if she were. Just one well-aimed kick or scathing comment… And it's not like she didn't have a prime example of Queen Bitch in her inner circle of friends. I counted myself fortunate not to have found myself on the receiving end of one of Rosalie Hale's tirades. Not that I'd ever given her cause; I stayed out of her way.

No, everything I'd seen and heard about Bella Swan during the first several weeks told me that she was a sweet, unassuming, innocent girl. She was a little shy, slightly clumsy, and she would get the most adorable blushes on her face that just made my heart race whenever I saw them. She was an angel. And she was fucking up my world.

I had to do _something_ to get over her. And because I considered myself to be so fucking smart, what with my perfect SAT scores and my 4.0 GPA, I got this brilliant idea that indulging myself with her for one night would get her out of my system. But how in fuck's name was I supposed to accomplish _that_? I'd not spoken to her once in the six weeks since school started, and whenever she turned my way, she'd get this odd look on her face, like she was affronted or something, and look away. I didn't know how to talk to girls, and the thought of talking to Bella Swan made me so anxious I wanted to hurl. And if I did find some way to talk to her, what then?

It was then that it occurred to me that Halloween was approaching, and the proverbial fucking light bulb turned on. Everything just fell into place. McCarty had that stupid party every year, and considering her circle of friends, Bella was sure to be there. I knew exactly what costume to wear, and the blessed anonymity would allow me to approach her, when at any other time I'd be too much of a chicken shit to do it.

_The best laid schemes o' mice an' men_, as the poet said. _Fucking idiot._ Me, not Burns. Shit, Burns was a ladies' man; he would never have found himself in these circumstances.

Because if I thought I'd had it bad for Bella Swan before, now I was completely fucking lost. It wasn't just a case of wanting her body anymore, though, judging by the past eight hours, my physical desire for her had gotten even stronger, if anything. No, I wanted her. _All_ of her.

Though I still couldn't reconcile her own actions last night with what I thought I knew about her. Okay, so I'd gathered that she thought she knew who I was, and not just some random guy. There was _that_ at least. But what had happened to the shy, quiet girl? Don't get me wrong; her taking my hand and leading me upstairs was hot, but it just didn't seem like her. Especially after she later made it apparent that she'd never had sex before. Fuck, maybe she'd been doing the same thing I was, taking a chance because it was Halloween.

But James fucking Hunter? My muscles tensed at the thought of that asshole getting his hands on her. Why him, of all people? She obviously didn't know what he was capable of. I wondered who at school did, if anyone, other than perhaps his ex-girlfriend, who was probably no better than he was, just in a different way. Fucking slut.

Fuck. So now I had an even bigger problem than before. I chuckled, thinking about how I felt like I almost always had a hard-on these days. No, seriously… I needed to find a way to become friends with Bella Swan, but I was back to my original issue, which was not knowing how to talk to a girl. And I had to find a way to keep James fucking Hunter away from her. Hopefully the first would take care of the second, but I was getting ahead of myself.

I needed someone to talk to, but whom? It's not like I had any male friends, either. And Dad? Um, no. As much as I respected him, and would value his advice, I just couldn't go to him with this. First, he'd probably tell me I shouldn't distract myself from my studies. _Ha, too late_. Either that, or he'd be so overjoyed that I'd finally "discovered" the opposite sex that he'd get Mom involved. And then I'd just die of embarrassment. No, thank you. And while there were one or two guys at work that might be willing to help me out—without laughing their asses off at me or saying anything to Dad—I wasn't exactly comfortable with the idea of sharing this kind of information with them. No, what I needed was someone at school. I just didn't know who that might be.

I eventually got up, went for a run, and ate Sunday breakfast with my parents. I took a shower and beat off to thoughts of Bella again, then spent the rest of my morning ostensibly on school work, while I actually spent most of the time trying to find advice online about how to talk to girls. I was such a fucking mess. At least according to the sites I read, it was considered "normal" to feel intimidated about talking to girls. I rolled my eyes. _Oh, really? These people haven't met Bella Swan._

At least I had six hours at the hospital starting in the afternoon. Dad gave me a ride in, as he had some paperwork to do. My thoughts were so focused on Bella that when he spoke to me, I had no idea what he'd said.

"What?" I looked over at him, blinking in confusion.

Dad chuckled. "I said, what are you thinking about so hard?"

I was so out of it, I very nearly blurted out her name, but I caught myself just in time. "Oh, you know. My application. Today's the deadline for early acceptance submissions. Just wondering how soon I'll hear back from them." _Good save, Cullen._ Today _was_ the deadline, though I'd sent in my application to Dartmouth a month ago.

"You know you have nothing to worry about, right?" Dad reached over and clapped me on the shoulder. "Your mother and I are so proud of you." I smiled at him absently and looked back at the trees flying past, my thoughts once again centered on Bella. If Dad spoke to me again during the rest of the drive, I didn't notice.

Finally, Monday morning arrived. I still hadn't the first clue what I was going to do about Bella, and I was nervous as hell. About what exactly, I wasn't sure—it wasn't as if she'd take one look at me and know, right? I shuddered at the thought, which incredibly hadn't even occurred to me until now. How was she going to react when she found out that I had been the one she'd invited upstairs at the Halloween party, and not James Hunter? _Goddamn it._ She'd probably be fucking pissed that I hadn't said anything. I mean, if the circumstances were reversed, and I thought I'd been with Bella, only to find out later that it had been, say, Lauren Mallory? I tasted bile at the thought.

_Jesus. I'd never be able to tell her._

With yet another complication to occupy my thoughts, I wandered through the hallways crowded with students until I found Bella at her locker. I stopped to watch her from a distance. Jeans, chucks, and a hoodie. I smiled. Such a simple, unassuming girl. It was getting close to time for the bell to ring for first period, and I was about to turn away and head to class, knowing she'd not be far behind, when I saw the motherfucker himself approach her. I was too far away, and there was too much ambient noise, for me to hear what they were saying, but I could see her smile at him, her blush tingeing her cheeks that beautiful rosy pink. I was so jealous that I nearly missed her look of surprise a moment later, but her unease visibly grew, her body stiffening as she turned back to her locker. I clenched my fists with anger as James leaned in and fucking _touched_ her, when she was so obviously shaken, and I was about to step in when she shut her locker and nearly ran away from him. _Ha, motherfucker. She doesn't like you after all._

Wait, what does that mean exactly? The first warning bell rang, and I thought about this as I wound my way through the halls to class. Was she pissed off at him because of what I did with her Saturday night, when she thought I was Hunter? Was she regretting it now? _Fuck, probably._ Or no, maybe he said something just now that upset her? Wouldn't put it past him, the asshole. _Fuck, it could even be because I took her panties by mistake._ I had briefly considered trying to find a way to get them back to her, but what the fuck? It's not like I could find a way to fit them through the slots in the locker doors, and even if I could, someone was bound to see me trying. What was I supposed to do, mail them to her? Plus, like a complete perv, I wanted to keep them anyway, now that I had them. _I am fucking going to hell over a pair of Bella Swan's panties._

I slid into my seat in the back of the classroom. I noticed that it was nearly time for the second bell to ring, and she hadn't arrived yet. Where was she? Then, just as the bell shrilled overhead, she slipped through the door, looking flustered as hell as she landed with little grace in her seat, obviously still upset. I wish I knew what she was thinking.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"What do you mean, 'it wasn't James?'" Alice gasped at me, her eyes wide with shock. Rose's face wore a more puzzled expression, and she folded her arms as she studied me.

Just then the warning bell for first period rang right overhead, making me jump. I couldn't be having this conversation, not now, not here. This was so stupid; I should have kept my mouth shut.

"I've got to get to class," I said, and started to turn away, but a vice-like grip on my arm pulled me back.

"Oh no, you don't," Alice chided. "You're not going anywhere until you explain what you just said."

I dropped my shoulders and gave Alice my best pleading look. It was nothing on hers, but I could only hope. "Please, Alice, I can't do this now. I've got to get to class." She raised her eyebrows at me like a scolding mother. "_Please?_ I'll tell you everything at lunch, I promise. Just let me go."

"Let her go, Tenacious A," Rosalie sighed, as she pried Alice's death grip off my arm. "You and I need to get to class, too, y'know."

Freed, I threw Rose a look of gratitude, then turned and high-tailed it down the hall. I just made it through the door of Mr. Lacey's classroom as the second bell rang, barely acknowledging Jasper in the front row, and fell, rather than sat, into my seat in the back. As I pulled out my notebook and pen, I noticed that my hands were shaking, and I tried to take a moment, a few deep breaths, to try to calm myself. That was when I felt his eyes on me again, and irritated, I turned in my seat to look. Sure enough, there he was, staring at me as usual—except that it wasn't as usual. Yes, Edward Cullen was staring, but his usual glare was gone. Instead he looked more—what, curious? And for some reason that just pissed me right off. _That's right, I'm a mess, dammit. Have a good look. Laugh it up while you're at it._

"What?" I hissed at him, hoping to make him stop. And the glare was back. At least there was one thing I could count on.

Lunch came way too soon for my liking. I'd calmed down considerably by that time, or at least my hands weren't shaking anymore. It wasn't like my mind was actually at ease, but by this point, I was almost more anxious about telling the story than the story itself. Oh, who was I kidding? I was freaked out, and I just hoped that my friends could help give me some perspective.

When I got to the lunchroom, Alice and Rosalie were already at our table waiting for me. I was just taking my usual seat next to Alice when I saw Jasper and Emmett heading our way, and I grimaced. I couldn't do this in front of them. But I need not have worried; Jasper took one look at Alice, stopped, turned, put his hand flat against Emmett's chest, and backed him away from our table without a word. The connection Alice and Jasper had with each other was surreal.

Alice then turned and fixed me with a stern look. "Spill." She was serious.

No matter how much this moment had filled my thoughts over the preceding few hours, I still had no idea how to start. I wished I had made the token effort to get something to eat, even knowing I wouldn't be able to hold anything down—at least I'd have something to occupy my nervous hands with. I looked back and forth between Alice and Rosalie, my mouth opening a few times as I started to speak, but with no sound coming out. I'm sure I looked like a fish gasping for air. Maybe closing my eyes would help.

"The guy…" I began haltingly. "The guy was tall and dressed all in black, like a Zorro costume. I thought, this must be James, right?" I opened my eyes to peek at my friends. Now that I'd begun, Alice looked expectant, excited even, to hear what I had to say, whereas Rosalie's beautiful face was expressionless as she waited for me to continue.

"He… came on to me?" I said, my voice raising as if in question, not knowing exactly how to describe what had happened next. "And I led him upstairs…" As I felt the blood rising to my face, Rosalie's eyebrows lifted and her lips curled in a smile of appreciation tinged with surprise. Alice wore a more shocked expression, her eyes wide and her jaw slack.

"We, um…" I could feel the heat radiating off my cheeks now, as my words faltered at the memory of that night. "He…"

"Are you trying to say you're not a virgin anymore, Bella?" Rosalie smirked at me.

"No!" I hissed at her, gaping back at her. "No, we didn't do… _that_."

Rosalie rolled her eyes and snorted. "You can't even say it? Geez, Bella." Alice shot her a disapproving look.

"I just don't want to go into those kinds of details while we're sitting here in the lunchroom, okay?"

To punctuate my words, that was the moment Jessica and two other girls greeted us brightly as they started to sit at our table. Rosalie gave them very pointed looks and barked out, "Private discussion," at which point the girls quickly picked up their things and moved on.

"Fair enough," Rosalie conceded, turning back to me.

"Did he say anything to make you think he was James?" Alice asked.

I sighed, my forehead creasing in thought. "Honestly, he didn't say much, and what he did say, he whispered. And I'm pretty sure I called him James at one point, but he didn't correct me."

"So why are you saying now that it wasn't him?" Alice looked confused.

"This morning, right before I came looking for you..." I sighed, closing my eyes again for a moment. This was the moment of truth. I was hoping that one of them could tell me that James was a bit of a practical joker, that he had been teasing me. But what a thing to tease me about! Plus, he'd mentioned a sword… I looked at them each again, my expression serious.

"James met me at my locker this morning… asked me where I was Saturday night. I told him he knew where I was, but he seemed confused. He said he got to the party late, and by the time he got there, he couldn't find me." I gave them both pleading looks. "Did either of you see him at the party? Did he have a sword?"

"I saw him, but I didn't talk to him," Rosalie said, pursing her lips as she thought back to the party. "I don't remember a sword, but that doesn't mean he didn't have one."

"He had a sword, Rose," Alice countered. "I remember Jasper saying something about it because he was wearing one of his own."

"It wasn't James," I groaned quietly. It was true, then. I let my head fall forward until my forehead was resting on the table in front of me. I felt a small hand, Alice's, stroking my hair reassuringly.

"Bella?" her voice reached my ears as if from miles away. "Sweetie?" I decided to indulge in my meltdown instead of answering her. The surface of the lunch table smelled of dirty dishwater and disinfectant, but I liked the fact that I didn't have to look at anyone. I just wanted to stay here and pretend the rest of the world didn't exist. And then I felt an annoying _thwack_ against the top of my head.

"Rose!" Alice hissed, as I bolted back upright, blinking stupidly at the cafeteria lights.

"Did you just flick your finger at me?" I accused the girl sitting across the table. Rosalie just gave me a _So what if I did?_ look, eyebrows raised. Then she leaned forward conspiratorially.

"Look, I know this guy, whoever he was, didn't pop your cherry that night, but obviously something else happened that you're not telling us about or you wouldn't be so upset." She paused, waiting, but not expecting, for me to contradict her. When I didn't, she continued. "So you're giving us the rest of the deets this afternoon, after school. My house."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she just gave me that look that no one dares argue with, and I gave up. _Ugh. The inquisition isn't over._

~*~

"Let me get this straight. A hot guy gave you incredible head, made you come so hard you saw stars, and you're _complaining_ about it?" Rosalie looked beyond exasperated with me.

"Rose, you're missing the point. I don't know who he was," I responded with a grimace, getting a bit frustrated with her myself.

"Yeah, I'd like to know who he was, too, so he can give Emmett a few pointers," she mumbled, causing Alice to giggle-snort. And then look rather smug. I didn't want to stop and think about what that meant. _TMI, anyone? Hell, this whole conversation was TMI._

"Okay, so explain to me exactly what it is that bothers you about the fact that you don't know who he was?" Rose went on. "Because, seriously, you've lost me."

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to find some patience. Really, why couldn't Rosalie understand that this was all new to me and that I was uncomfortable about it? Of course, there was more to it than that… I mean, let's face it. I was confused as hell about how I felt myself. Suddenly I wasn't feeling quite so impatient with Rosalie.

"Okay, first: I'm interested in James. This guy was _not_ James."

"So what?" Rosalie answered. "You're not actually dating James yet. It's not like you cheated on him. And nothing's stopping you from still going after James, no matter what happened two nights ago."

Rose was right, but it still didn't feel… honest, somehow. Why was that? And was that what was bothering me?

"Maybe…" I hedged.

"Maybe you like this guy _more_ than you like James?" Alice offered. I blinked at her.

"Ah ha…" Rosalie grinned. "I think you're on to something, Lois," she added, watching me closely with narrowing eyes.

As usual, I blushed. Is _that_ what this was all about? I was so confused that I had no idea. I hadn't had time to myself to think about any of this since this morning.

"How…" I stammered. "How could I like this guy, this 'Mystery Man,' more than James? I don't even know who he is!"

"You certainly liked him enough when you thought he _was_ James," Rosalie countered.

"But that's the point. I thought he was James, but he's not."

"But do you still like him, Bella?" Alice asked.

"I don't know!" I nearly shouted, frustrated and confused as hell. "I don't know," I repeated, more quietly, as I tried to think things through, which was impossible with the Inquisition barraging me with questions. One thing, though, had occurred to me.

"Whoever he was," I said, voicing my thought process out loud, "he knew me and sought me out. But he didn't want me to know who he was. I'm not sure how I feel about that, how I _should_ feel about that." I chewed on my bottom lip, until I remembered something else.

"And he's got my panties!" I wailed. I hid my burning face behind my hands. Now more than ever I wanted to just curl up and die from the embarrassment I was suffering.

"That didn't seem to bother you before, Bella." I could tell by the tone in her voice that Rosalie was _smirking_ at me. "What's changed?"

_Was she serious?_ I pulled my hands away to glare at her where she sat curled comfortably on her bed. "Before, it was James. Now—a complete stranger has my panties!" My voice seemed to raise another octave.

The smirk never left Rose's face. "Well, not a _complete_ stranger." She wiggled her eyebrows at me.

I huffed in growing irritation and looked around for something I could safely throw at her. Finding nothing, I got to my feet instead, fully intending to leave. For some reason, Rosalie couldn't or wouldn't take this seriously, and I needed some time to myself. Unfortunately, Alice had other ideas.

"Bella, wait," Alice pleaded with me, shooting a glare of her own at the blonde. "Don't you want to at least find out who this guy is?" she asked.

I turned back and faced them both. I was in two minds about staying; I wanted Alice's support but without Rosalie's teasing, but at the same time, I felt I needed to do some serious thinking. Seeing the earnest expression on Alice's face and the chastened look in Rosalie's eyes, I decided to stay, at least for the moment. I would have time later this evening to drive myself crazy in the privacy of my bedroom.

I sat back down again on the floor. "How in the world are we going to figure out who he is, Alice? I don't even know where to start."

"Well, I've been thinking," she said, her face lighting up as her eyes darted back and forth between the two of us. "We know he knows who you are, so chances are he's someone at school. We also know he's tall, like James, and not built like Emmett."

"Okay, but that's still quite a few guys, Alice," I responded. "How do we narrow them down?"

She grinned at me. "We also know some people we can eliminate from the list of suspects." Alice's bag was sitting beside her where she perched next to Rosalie, and she dug through it, retrieving a notebook and a pen.

"What we need to do is write a list of all the tall, medium-build guys at school, strike through the ones we know can't be your Mystery Man, and the remaining names we'll divide in half."

"Half?" Rosalie asked.

"Yes. We'll have Jasper and Emmett each take half of the names, and they'll 'interview' everyone on the list and find out if they came to the party and, if they did, what they wore." Alice smiled brightly, looking very pleased with herself as she poised her pen over the notebook, ready to start writing down names.

Rose snorted. "'Interview' them? What, like for an article or something? No, we need to give Em and Jazz a reason to ask these guys questions—else they'll just end up sounding fucking gay." Alice blinked at her, frowning.

"What if…" I began, an idea forming in my head. "What if they say that someone left something behind at the party, and they need to know what people were wearing in order to make sure it gets back to the right person?"

"Brilliant!" Alice beamed at me and scribbled something down. "Now we need to make a list of all the tall guys at school."

The next half hour or so was spent going through Rosalie's copy of last year's Forks High Yearbook to make sure we didn't leave anyone off the list inadvertently. Alice was being ridiculously thorough and wouldn't cross anyone's name off the list, not even Jasper's, until we'd listed everyone.

"Now let's go through and eliminate those we know couldn't be the Mystery Man," she said. Rose and I started blurting out names, but Alice hushed us and told us we had to go in order according to her list, garnering Rosalie's signature eye roll. As each name came up, we tried to remember if we'd seen the boy at the party and what he was wearing.

"Tyler Crowley."

"Cop." Rosalie and I both answered. He'd looked rather nice in his uniform, I remembered, if not exactly authentic. After all, I had first-hand knowledge of policemen's uniforms from doing Charlie's laundry.

"Edward Cullen," Alice called out the next name on the list. She frowned and pursed her lips as she thought back to Saturday night, tapping the end of her pen against her chin.

"Well, you can scratch _that_ name off, that's for sure," I grumbled.

Alice looked down at me where I was still sitting on the floor. "Why, what was he wearing?"

"Doesn't matter. It's not him," I said confidently.

"Is that douche bag _still_ glaring at you?" Rosalie asked incredulously. "Geez, he so needs to get over himself."

"Well," Alice dragged out the word. "We really should be thorough, you know. If Bella's sure it can't be him, he can be our 'control,' you know, like in an experiment. Use his responses to compare to everyone else's." Again with the smug look. "I'll have Jazz talk to him," she added to herself, as she made a little notation next to the name.

Rosalie's face contorted as she stared at Alice. She looked like she was biting back a laugh. "Um, yeah, whatever," she managed to mumble. "Next name?"

By the end of the exercise, we had the names of eleven guys that hadn't been crossed off the list. All that was left now was to get Emmett and Jasper in on the scheme. And it was high time I went home to start fixing dinner for Charlie.

"Don't worry, Bella," Rosalie said as I opened her front door to leave. "Emmett's not stupid, but he's not exactly subtle. I'll make sure he doesn't say anything he shouldn't." I smiled at her in thanks.

"And I'm sorry if I gave you a hard time," she added quietly. I had turned to move out the door, but now I stopped and looked back at her in surprise. Rosalie almost never apologized. "Bella, you just need to try to relax about it. So what if it wasn't James? You enjoyed it, right? And nothing bad happened. There's nothing to be embarrassed about." She smiled at me again before I nodded to her and retreated to my truck.

My mind wandered throughout the rest of the day as I worked first on dinner, then absentmindedly on my homework, until finally I was able to curl up in bed and give my thoughts free rein to explore how I felt about what had happened. And I wasn't sure I agreed with Rosalie.

First and foremost, I had acted rashly and foolishly. I had made an assumption that my… _companion_, for lack of a better word, was James, and I had been wrong. I was simply very lucky that my Mystery Man had not gone any further than he had, that he had neither hurt me nor forced me to do anything against my will. I shuddered at how blindly trusting—_ha, blindly_—I had been, putting my safety in the hands of a stranger. And what if I had been even more daring that night? What if, still believing him to be James, I had allowed him, even encouraged him, to have sex with me? I would have lost my virginity to a complete stranger. I don't think I could possibly be more angry and disappointed with myself.

The fundamental issue aside, what were my feelings now toward James? He had made no promises about when he'd arrive at the party, so I only had myself to blame for having gotten my hopes up and for having been so impatient for his arrival that I'd assumed the stranger was him without closer examination. James had seemed both apologetic and disappointed about having missed me at the party, so I could only assume he was still interested—an assumption strengthened by the way he'd approached me this morning and whispered in my ear. Once again I shuddered. I remembered how uncomfortable I'd felt at the time—but why? I still liked James; certainly my feelings for him couldn't have changed overnight simply because I found out he wasn't the one who'd gone down on me at the party. So why the awkwardness? It must have been from the shock of having just learned of the mistaken identity. Surely anyone standing so close to me in that exact moment would have made me feel trapped and vulnerable. No, I was still interested in James. He'd done nothing to warrant my distrust or any other change in my opinion of him.

So what of the Mystery Man? Gut reaction—anger. How could he have misled me like that? What kind of person did that make him? It was one thing to "go with the flow"; he hadn't offered his name, but I hadn't asked it, either, and I was, after all, the one who'd invited _him_ upstairs. But I distinctly remembered calling him James, and he hadn't corrected me. In fact, now that I thought about it, wasn't that when he'd bitten down really hard? Had that been in surprise at learning who I thought he was?

But what was the whole deal with the secret identity anyway? Had it just been a game he was playing, or was he genuinely afraid of me finding out who he was? Had he sought me out specifically, or had he simply approached me because I happened to be alone at the time? And the costume—was it merely coincidence that he'd dressed so similarly to James, or had he somehow planned it that way?

_God, what must he think of me? And why the hell did I care?_ Did he think I was some kind of slut to have invited a complete stranger into a bedroom alone with me? Did he think that way about me before, and was that why he'd approached me, or did he think that now after what had happened? Was he disgusted by my behavior? Is that the real reason why he'd left instead of staying? God, why did he feel he had to keep his identity a secret? Would he ever reveal himself to me? Was he even interested in seeing me again?

_Aaarrrgghh._ Why was I so turned upside down by some guy I didn't even know? Was it because of what he'd done with me? Was that all? _Ha! Was that all?!_ Only my first sexual experience—okay, not actually _sex_, but still—and let's face it, it was mind-blowing. I'd been so turned on by the secrecy of it, first with his refusal to remove his mask, then the blindfold… And that spark I'd felt… Was that normal? Was that something that everyone felt when they were as turned on as I'd been? And I was sure he'd felt it, too. I'd heard him gasp the same time I did.

But his kisses, the feel of his lips on mine, on my neck, my breast, my… _God._ I was getting wet just thinking about his mouth on me _down there._

And he'd been… caring, reassuring. He hadn't laughed at me or left in disgust when I'd confessed my inexperience to him. He'd tried to soothe me, make the experience about me. _He hadn't asked me to return the favor._ God, what teenaged boy does _that_?

Because of that alone I was ready to forgive him for misleading me—until I remembered that he'd stolen my panties, and once again I was plunged into anger and mortification. A caring lover who takes trophies? It seemed so incongruous that I still couldn't reconcile the one with the other. But then, I had to concede that I was so inexperienced in the ways of the opposite sex that it was possible that it was normal behavior to collect trophies such as a girl's underwear. After all, what did I know anyway?

I considered asking Alice and Rosalie about it, but I decided the less talk about my pilfered panties, the better. Having said that, just as Rose had said, back when I'd thought it was James, I'd been annoyed, but not to the point of disowning him. So while I couldn't exactly forgive my Mystery Man for the theft, I could at least chalk it up to normal teenaged behavior.

So where did all these questions leave me? I supposed there was one question I hadn't asked myself, and that was, what would I do if I were to find out who my Mystery Man was? Rail at him for the deception? If I could find the nerve to talk to him, almost certainly. Would I want something more, a repeat performance perhaps, or the opportunity to "return the favor," as I'd just put it a moment ago? I suppose it all depended on who he ended up being. He might not be someone I'd be interested in once I knew who he was.

Which led me to the question, _What do I know about him?_ I might not know his name, how he spent his time, or what kinds of things he was interested in, but despite the deception and the panty theft, he seemed… what? Nice? Tender? Romantic, even? I could still hear the words he'd whispered to me, as if it had been just a moment ago. _"You are an amazing, beautiful, sexy woman, Bella Swan, and it was my pleasure."_ Major swoon. I mean, what adolescent boy even _says_ something like that? And then doesn't even seem to expect a hand job in return?

And apparently he was attracted to me. _Or he had been Saturday night, considering._ And he was hot himself, or at least his body was. I could feel the muscles as I'd stroked his back and shoulders, the hard planes of his chest against my softness. _And now I'm kinda wishing I'd grabbed his ass while I'd had the chance…_ Obviously I had no idea about his face. _Oh God_—was the reason he insisted on keeping his mask on was because there was something wrong with his face? _Please, no_. I didn't want to seem superficial, but that would just be cruel and unfair.

No, until proven otherwise, and in the full knowledge that I could be setting myself up for real disappointment, I preferred to think of my Mystery Man as ruggedly handsome underneath the mask he wore. And as my body began to relax toward sleep, my imagination began to weave a story around a handsome young man who wore a mask to hide his features so that people would focus on his kind and caring nature, not his looks.

I finally fell asleep to thoughts and dreams of my Mystery Man, who courted me with poetry and flowers during the day and with passionate kisses and whispered endearments at night. And all I could ever see of his face were his beautiful, smoldering eyes.


	3. Bubbles

**A/N: SMeyer owns.**

**I know it's been a ridonkulously long time since I updated, and for those of you who are still bothering with this story, I both apologize for the wait and am grateful to you for sticking with me. All I can say is I hit a nasty case of writers' block.**

**Many, many thanks to my wonderful beta Zors for her help, and to both her and luvrofink for their support and encouragement. I would never have written this chapter if not for them. And if you're not reading their stories, you should be!**

**Cross-posted on The Writer's Coffee Shop Library.**

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Chapter 3: Bubbles**

Okay, seriously. _What. The. Fuck?_

Apparently she was mad at me now. But what did I do? I thought I was giving her my concerned face, because fuck it, she looked so upset when she came in the room. Hell, she looked upset when she left the asshole out in the hallway.

More than anything I wished I could read Bella's mind right now. Because if I had no idea what she was so pissed off about, how was I supposed to find a way to talk to her? Chances were at this point she'd just bite my fucking head off if I so much as looked at her. Fuck, she pretty much just did that already.

My thoughts were so occupied with Bella and her mental state that I didn't remember even taking any notes during class. I kept glancing over at her, trying to be all surreptitious about it; if she happened to move so much as a muscle while I was peeking over at her, I made sure to avert my eyes quickly. God knows I didn't want to piss her off any more than she already was.

When the bell rang to end first period, she shot off like a rocket, nearly tripping on a leg of the desk in front of her in her haste to leave the room. As much as I wanted to know what was bothering her, know if she was okay, I knew I couldn't go after her. Because hell, what was I going to say? _Hey, Bella, I know we've never actually spoken to each other, but I noticed you were upset and I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I think I have a right to know because I made you come a couple of nights ago._ Yeah, that would be perfect. Uh, _no._

The morning dragged along. I shared third period with her as well, but unfortunately we had assigned seats in that class and where I was sitting didn't allow me to look at her without being found out. The most I saw of her was when she walked in before class started. She didn't look angry like she had earlier; instead she appeared lost in thought, a thin line marring her forehead, her plump lower lip caught between her teeth. _Fuuuck._ Seeing her biting that lip of hers just made my jeans tighter.

At lunchtime I parked myself in my usual spot, a couple of tables away facing where Bella always sat with her two friends and their boyfriends. Again I observed her carefully—carefully in that I did my best, as always, to watch her without her realizing I was doing it. Interestingly, Whitlock and McCarty didn't join the girls today. And I also saw Queen Bitch shoo away a group of girls who tried to sit at the same table with them. Bella actually looked paler than normal, almost like she was going to be sick—I noticed she didn't have anything to eat—and at one point she got this look on her face like she was going to pass out, right before she deliberately sank face down on the table in front of her. _Fuck!_ I had to stop myself from running over to her and asking her if she was okay. Brandon, at least, appeared to be trying to comfort her, even though Queen Bitch didn't seem to be very sympathetic. I wished I could hear what they were saying, but all I could make out was the occasional mention of the fucker's name.

Once again, I felt waves of anger and jealousy rolling over me. Fucking Hunter. I still didn't know if she was upset over what happened at the party, or if he'd done or said something since then, but regardless, for whatever reason he was the one she was obviously so concerned about. Fuck it all. I had to find some way to start talking to her, get to know her, so I could try to convince her to stay away from that asshole. Fuck, even if all I ever was to her was a friend, I had to do that much.

...

The next morning I had just turned away from my locker and was about to go looking for Bella when I nearly collided with Whitlock. I mumbled an apology and moved to step around him, but he caught me off guard when he said my name. I stopped and blinked at him; he and I weren't exactly friends, but we weren't unfriendly either.

"'Sup?" I asked. He gave me an odd look, almost as if he were embarrassed or something. What, did he not take notes in class yesterday or something? If he was coming to me for them, he was shit outa luck.

"So, I'm kinda helping Emmett ask around…" he started. "Uh, did you make it to the party Saturday night?"

I frowned at him, suddenly anxious. _The fuck?_ Had Bella somehow figured out it was me? I decided to try and play it cool, throw off the suspicion, if that was what this was about. I snorted at him. "Didn't everybody?" I asked. "Why?"

Whitlock smirked at me, chuckling and rubbing his forehead. "Somebody kinda… left something behind, and we want to return it."

My frown returned. I could feel the muscles between my eyebrows tensing. "I didn't lose anything," I said, shaking my head, while mentally cataloguing what the hell I might have dropped that could possibly give me away. Seriously, I hadn't left anything behind, not that I knew of anyway. Now I'd _taken_ something, yeah. Totally unintentionally, but still…

"You sure?" he countered, shifting his weight back and forth. "What kind of costume were you wearing?"

"I'm sure I didn't lose anything, man," I told him. I sure as hell wasn't answering _that_ question. He opened his mouth to ask again, but I cut in. "Why don't you tell me what it is, and I'll tell you if it's mine."

He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Why won't you tell me what you were wearing?"

Now I was just getting impatient with him, and I turned and started walking away. "Because it doesn't matter," I threw over my shoulder. "I didn't lose anything." He followed after me as the first bell rang. "We gotta get to class now anyway."

Damn Whitlock. His stupid ass questions meant I'd now missed my chance to look for Bella before classes started this morning, try to find out what kind of mood she was in today.

It turned out she was already at her seat in the back when I got to class. As I made my way to my own desk, I tried to catch a glimpse of her face. She had her nose buried in a textbook, her hair shadowing the side of her face closest to me, while her hand was curled into her silken locks on the other side. _Gorgeous._ Though not exactly helpful in letting me read her mood.

She never looked up, and I continued to watch her, until an order from Mr. Lacey for Whitlock to take his seat so we could begin class snapped our attention to the front of the room.

... ... ...

Tuesday morning seemed to drag by. All I could seem to think about was that Emmett and Jasper were supposed to be feeling out the potential suspects for my Mystery Man, and then they were going to report back to us girls during lunch on what, if anything, they'd managed to find out. My stomach was in knots, but I tried to hide it, tried to distract myself by burying my head in a book anytime I wasn't either in class or on my way to class. I only ended up reading the same paragraph over and over fifty times, never able to make sense of it. I just couldn't concentrate.

By the time lunch rolled around, I knew that I'd somehow attended four classes, and simply from habit I knew what classes they were, but I couldn't have told anyone what we talked about.

I headed straight for our table in the back when I reached the cafeteria, for the second day in a row not bothering to buy anything to eat. Alice was already there, looking very official and organized with her list of names from yesterday, all typed up in a spreadsheet. I sat down next to her and noticed that she had indicated what each boy had been wearing to the party or whether his status was as yet "unknown." Rosalie joined us just a moment after I did, snorting when she noticed Alice's list. We were unnaturally quiet, exchanging only brief greetings, and a word or two of support from Alice, as we waited for Emmett and Jasper to arrive. Again, time seemed to drag while Alice drummed her fingers on the table—until Rosalie grabbed her hand and stopped her. What was probably only a few minutes felt like hours before the two boys showed up, walking briskly over to our table. Emmett made a big show of leaping over the back of the chair next to Rosalie's, a grin wide enough to split his face as he took us all in. Jasper was a bit more controlled in his movements as he sat next to Alice.

She looked back and forth between the two of them impatiently. "Well?" she said. "Hand over your notes."

Emmett's face fell. "Notes? I didn't know I was supposed to write shit down."

I groaned internally as Alice huffed at him in exasperation. "How else were you supposed to remember everything? Guys, this is important!"

Jasper's eyes twinkled as he wrapped an arm around Alice's shoulders. "Don't worry, darlin'," he said. "It's all up here." He tapped his temple with his other hand before placing a gentle kiss on Alice's. "Besides, we didn't have to talk to everyone on the list you gave us," he went on.

"Yeah, we remembered some of their costumes," Emmett put in.

"Well?" Alice asked. "So what did you find out?" I was glad Alice was running this show; I didn't think I'd be able to form a coherent sentence.

"Yeah, about that…" Jasper began, withdrawing his arm from Alice's shoulder to open his lunch bag and pull out a wrapped sandwich. "Em and I were just talking about that on the way here. Um… essentially? We got nothin'."

"What?" Alice cried in dismay. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, my shoulders slumping in defeat. "What do you mean?"

"No Zorro costumes, nothing that could even be mistaken for Zorro," Emmet answered through a mouthful of Doritos. "So… what's this shit all about anyway?"

"It doesn't matter now," I managed to mumble, as Rosalie glanced at me before turning to face her boyfriend.

"Bella's just trying to find out who she was with at the party Saturday night. The guy was wearing a mask and he didn't say his name," she explained quietly.

Emmett was quiet for a moment as I watched the gears moving behind his eyes. The moment the light bulb turned on, his expression changed and he turned to me. "Fuck, Bells, did someone hurt you?"

"What?" I answered, a bit shocked that that's where his thoughts went. "No. It wasn't like that."

Rosalie's face took on a more devious expression, pursing her lips. "No, whoever it was didn't hurt her; quite the opposite. I think what she really wants is to, uh, return the favor." Her eyes widened, then she broke into a giant, mischievous smile, nodding and winking at both boys.

"Rose!" I gasped, while Emmett's jaw fell open in shock before he started grinning at me and waggling his eyebrows. Jasper had started choking on his soda, and Alice patted him on the back while staring back at Rosalie in disbelief.

"What?" Rosalie rejoined as she looked at me over her shoulder. "I think you should be pleased that your first sexual experience was such a good one—and that you managed to get it in before your eighteenth birthday."

"Rosalie!" I hissed. "Would you keep it down, please?"

She took the time to look in all directions and then she turned to me with an almost condescending expression. "There's no one close enough to hear," she said. When she noticed my eyes flicker momentarily to the far end of a nearby table, where Edward Cullen was sitting with a book in his usual spot, she spared another glance before turning back to me disdainfully. "No one who matters, anyway," she concluded. At least she did lower her voice this time.

I frowned at her, still annoyed with her for just blurting out my secret like that. "Whatever, Rose," I said wearily. "Besides, you're wrong anyway. I'm already eighteen," I finished in a mutter that only she and Alice heard.

"What?" Alice asked. "When was your birthday, Bella?" Her delicate eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Oh, it was, uh…" I faltered. _Shit._ "Back in September?" I answered hesitantly, more like a question. _Three… two… one…_

"Bella!" To say that Alice had shrieked loud enough to wake the dead in the next county would be an understatement. Even Emmett, whose default volume was decibels above the average teenager's, winced.

All conversation stopped at the surrounding tables, every face turned in our direction. Even Edward looked up from his book, I noticed, his gaze curious rather than glaring. What was up with him? I wondered. Twice in two days? _Gimme a break. I just want normal back._

"Bella, we have to have a party!" Alice was exclaiming next to me.

I turned to her and gaped. "What?" I asked in disbelief. "My birthday was _two months_ ago. And I have something I'm a little more concerned about right now than celebrating a birthday I didn't want to celebrate in the first place."

Alice looked at me in confusion. "What are you talking about, Bella? Everyone should celebrate their eighteenth birthday. I can't believe you didn't tell us!"

"I didn't—"

"What exact day was it?" she asked, interrupting me.

"The thirteenth. I don't—"

"This is _perfect_. Exactly two months would make it the end of next week, which will give me enough time to get everything together."

"But—"

"We can have it at my house, don't worry. We'll make sure everyone knows about it, so everyone who came to the Halloween party should come to this one." She gave me a triumphant little grin as she bounced in her seat. She whipped the now useless spreadsheet over to the back and started scribbling down notes.

Oh. _Oh._ "Oookay," I responded hesitantly. "Now that I know where you're going with this. Except—even if he shows up, how are we going to know it's him?"

"Okay, so, I haven't worked out all the details. Yet." Alice frowned slightly, and Rosalie shook her head, chuckling quietly. Emmett was listening intently as he ate, but he obviously hadn't quite caught up yet. "At the moment, all I'm going with is that your birthday party will give him the opportunity to do or say something to reveal himself to you. And I _know _he'll come"—Alice shot a reproachful look at Emmett and Rosalie when they snorted—"because the party will be in your honor. He'll _want_ to be there. "

"Alice, darlin'," Jasper spoke up. "Don't get your hopes up that just because the guy comes to the party, you'll be able to figure out who he is."

Alice smiled indulgently at him, though her voice betrayed a note of dismay. "What do you mean, Jasper? I'm sure I'll think of something."

"No, I'm just saying, obviously he doesn't want his identity known. Otherwise, what would have been the point in keeping it a secret in the first place?" He put his arm around her shoulder again and looked across her at me apologetically. "I just think you should be prepared to have to wait a while, Bella. If the guy wants you to know who he is, he'll let you know—when he's ready." He gave me a kind smile, then turned back to his lunch.

"He's right, you know," Rosalie agreed, not unkindly. "As much as you want to find him—as much as _I_ want you to find him"—she smirked and winked at me, and I blushed in response—"you may never know who he was. But don't forget, in the meantime, you still have Hunter the Hottie who is definitely still interested. If you want my opinion, give your Mystery Man until the party next week to say something to you. And if he doesn't, he's missed his chance. Then you can concentrate on the guy you know about."

I had a lot more to think about after our discussion at lunch. Gone was my fantasy of last night.. Though neither Jasper nor Rosalie had stated, even hinted, at anything specific to make me change my mind, I couldn't help but ask myself what the hell I'd been thinking the night before.

I mean, seriously, life is not a fairy tale. Some guy saw an opportunity and he took it. And then in a moment of weakness, I made him out to be some kind of knight in shining armor, a Galahad, the answer to all my romantic fantasies. Really? Let's be honest with ourselves here. The more likely reason he didn't have me give him a blow job, or even a hand job, was that he was disappointed with how inexperienced I was, and he didn't want me to injure him with my innocent fumbling. Rosalie _did_ point out that this had been my first sexual experience, and I was over eighteen. Pretty much all the decent looking girls—okay, maybe not Angela Weber, but she was a minister's daughter—had experience of some sort. At the very least they would have _kissed_ someone before.

And the guy hadn't come forward to identify himself because he didn't want to look me in the eye; he didn't want me clinging to him, thinking that we were a couple just because he'd gone down on me. God, he might even be disgusted with himself for having done it. Maybe he had a girlfriend and had cheated on her with me. Maybe he'd done it as a dare. The disappearance of my panties made much more sense in that context; they were proof of having done the deed to whoever had challenged him. _Get the panties from the virgin._ Nice little bet I'm sure they had. And a nice little laugh.

God, I was an idiot.

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